Flyers Story "Rewards" Richie, Jeff, Hartnell and Jones
TITLE: "Rewards" Richie, Jeff, Hartnell and Jones
BY: exigencyexit
FANDOM: NHL
TEAM(S): Philadelphia Flyers
PAIRING(S): Mike Richards/Joffrey Lupul, Jeff Carter/Simon Gagne, mentions of Scott Hartnell and Randy Jones
RAITING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: All fake, fiction, not true.
WARNINGS: Boy-on-boy smut. Language. Not too Harts and Jonesy friendly this time.
CREDIT: The boys and their amazing goals Friday night, even though Saturday night they were made of epic FAIL.
SUMMARY: Rewards for the boys who scored on Friday, Jan 30, 2009.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, it's here! Finally! (and yes, I know, where are the rewards from last Tuesday's game...) This particular reward story takes place Saturday night (the 31st) after the game. ENJOY! *Not edited.
Failure, heartbreak, completely humiliated. Everyone pretty much felt that way. You can score six goals one night, but none the next? Fuckin' ridiculous. Johnny's words burned Jeff's ears as he poured the remainder of his drink down his throat.
"Another?" The bartender filled his glass, discreetly, not to make a fuss about how drinking away the misery won't actually help. Jeff would argue with him and probably curse, get mad, break a glass from frustration. It wasn't worth the aggravation, so when another Flyer joined Jeff and ordered the same thing, the older man poured refills in two drinks until the late hours.
Mike Richards had disappeared earlier, Jeff remembered, maybe to go up to the room and go to bed. But there was a hand on his back, warm and inviting, and it felt like Richie, felt almost like home.
"You got two goals tonight," someone whispered in his ear, a giggle escaping through dry lips.
"Damn right I did." Jeff pushed the empty glass away from him and stood up, stumbled, caught the bar stool and grinned. He wrapped an arm around Simon Gagne's shoulders and pulled his teammate close. Jeff buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, too drunk to realize how public they were to be doing such a thing. Simon didn't seem to care, too drunk as well, and only continued to giggle some more as a tongue licked his earlobe.
"Come on," Jeff urged, and they were walking towards the elevators. The button wouldn't sit still, and when Jeff finally pushed it and the doors opened, they got on, watched the doors shut, and soon Simon was pressed against one of the four steel walls.
"I'm gonna fuck you." The breath was hot in Simon's ear and all he could do was moan in response. He opened his eyes when he heard the soft "ding" and the doors opening, watching Jeff stagger away. He followed, grabbing after the second line center, and started giggling again.
"Shut up," Jeff demaned, placing a hand over Simon's mouth. He felt a tongue lick between his fingers as the giggling was muffled. "Joff must hear us."
"Huh?" Simon raised an eyebrow but was then pulled into the hotel room, door slammed shut behind him.
Jeff had his shirt off already as he threw Simon to the bed, watching the man land on the sheets, drunk and willing. He climbed on top of the winger, attacked his lips, pressing harsh kisses and pulling at his shirt. He ran finger through his hair, tugging at the strands, extracting moans deep from Simon's throat. He thrusted against the throbbing erection in his teammate's pants, his aching just as much, both ready to be released from their denim confinements.
"Come on, get fuckin' naked already." Jeff was somewhat pissed. An angry drunk? Maybe. But what Simon didn't know was that Jeff thought he was about to fuck Richie, not Simon, and when Richie and Jeff are in bed and horny as hell and just want release, things tend to get rushed.
"I will if you - " The t-shirt was ripped and off in two seconds flat. Lips now on his chest, fingertips teasing his nipples. Simon arched his back into the touch and bucked his hips. Fingers were now working on his pants, his lifted his hips again so they could slid off, and now completely naked, Simon was hard and weeping and holding back a cry of anticipation.
"Fuck yeah." More clothes landed on the floor, Jeff joined Simon and was completely naked as well. "Turn over."
The sound of a cap being flipped open echoed in the room and soon two slicked fingers entered Simon. The winger moaned loudly, pressing his forehead against the mattress and shoving his ass back against the fingers. They fucked him, stretching, Jeff pulling out and pushing back in too quickly that Simon almost came. No, not yet, Gags, you're supposed to come while Jeff is fucking you.
The tip of Jeff's cock pushed at Simon's entrance, teasing, pushing more, soon filling him completely. Jeff grasped at the winger's hips, fingertips digging deep, likely to leave a mark. The thrusting began, hard and fast the entire time, no stopping till Simon was grabbing his own cock and moaning and both were coming at the same time. Jeff's body shoke, eyes shut tightly as he moaned out a name, a name Simon didn't hear because he was too busy coming down from the high of his own orgasm.
Sweaty bodies collapsed on the bed and Simon wiped his sticky hand on the sheets. He didn't look at Jeff, didn't watch him as Jeff climbed under the sheets and laid his head on the pillow. Simon was off the bed before Jeff could grab at him, before hands could pull him close to kiss or cuddle or do something that Simon didn't want to do. Dressed in jeans, he grabbed a shirt from Jeff's bag and pulled it on over his head. He slipped on his shoes, and opening the door he could hear the faint sound of the Jeff's snoring. Closing the door while out in the hallway made the sound disappear.
*****
Joff rubbed a towel in his wet hair and walked out of the bathroom. Tossing the towel in a corner of the room, he looked at the sleeping form on one of the beds. It was Richie, fully clothed, sleeping off a couple rounds of drinks.
"Hey," Joff nudged at the captain's shoulder and laid down next to him. He didn't want to wake him, but there was a certain part of his body that was demanding attention, and it also knew someone needed to receive their reward still.
Richie groaned and turned over, eyes opening slowly. He rubbed at them, rubbing the sleep away, and looked at Joff. A small smile formed, but when his eyes trailed up and down his body, the smile turned into a grin and soon hands were pulling at Joff.
"Come here, you," Richie moaned, and they were kissing, passionately, hands running down Joff's chest and to in between his thighs. The winger moaned, just as loudly as Richie did, and bucked his hips so hot flesh was now touching even hotter flesh as Richei grabbed his cock.
"Fuck!" Joff arched his back, exposing his neck, allowing Richie to nip and suck at the tender spots he knew well. He ran his fingers through Richie's hair and tugged gently, causing the captain to look up at him. "Please, fuck me, Richie."
"You sure?"
Joff nodded and pulled at the captain's shirt, bringing their bodies closer. "Yeah, for your reward, and because...I miss you." Their lips connected again and Richie was pulling at his jeans, tugging them down and pulling out his cock. He was hard already, ready to go. Still kissing, Richie placed himself between Joff's legs and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. It sat there, waiting, almost empty as it was used much the previous nights.
"Yeah, that's it..." Joff's voice was almost breathless, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he felt three fingers quickly prepare him. "Oh, do it now, Richie, fuck me now." A cock replaced the fingers, slowly entering, and after adjusting to his size, Joff was soon squirming underneatth Richie as the captain was rocking in and out of him. No one fucked Joff like Scottie did - hot, fast, hard, sometimes painful, but all to bring him to fullest extent of pleasure possible. With Richie, being fucked by his captain was all about taking it slow and making it last as long as he could. Joff could be fucked by Richie for hours, even though they never had the time to do it, or even the privacy with Scottie always lurking around. It was what they used to do, back then.
He could feel the pleasure rising, his own cock becoming harder with each thrust. Spreading his legs wider and arching his hips up, Richie dug deeper into him and hit a spot that normally wasn't hit. Joff cried out, moaning the captain's name, jerking his own cock till his seed was spread all over their chests. Richie gave a couple more thrust, kissing Joff as he filled him. Hands grabbed at his ass, keeping him there longer, longer then need be, but Richie didn't protest and just kept pushing his tongue further into the winger's mouth.
"Richie..." Joff was panting, smiling, watching the captain finally pull out and wipe away some drying seed with a bed sheet. Richie kicked off his jeans the rest of the way before lying next to Joff, taking his teammate in his arms and kissing his forehead.
"Thanks," he said, smiling down at him.
"No problem."
The upcoming hours were lurking, maybe like Scottie was doing, and they both feel asleep minutes later still as close as could be.
Somewhere else in another hotel room, Scott Hartnell was pressed against a wall as he was receiving his reward. A simple blow job, brought on quickly and coming down the handsome man's throat. A couple doors down, Randy Jones was fast asleep, completely naked, his reward received and over with before Hartnell's. Neither one knew it was the same Flyer who rewarded them each, and if they never talked about it, they would never know. Only, him.
BY: exigencyexit
FANDOM: NHL
TEAM(S): Philadelphia Flyers
PAIRING(S): Mike Richards/Joffrey Lupul, Jeff Carter/Simon Gagne, mentions of Scott Hartnell and Randy Jones
RAITING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: All fake, fiction, not true.
WARNINGS: Boy-on-boy smut. Language. Not too Harts and Jonesy friendly this time.
CREDIT: The boys and their amazing goals Friday night, even though Saturday night they were made of epic FAIL.
SUMMARY: Rewards for the boys who scored on Friday, Jan 30, 2009.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, it's here! Finally! (and yes, I know, where are the rewards from last Tuesday's game...) This particular reward story takes place Saturday night (the 31st) after the game. ENJOY! *Not edited.
Failure, heartbreak, completely humiliated. Everyone pretty much felt that way. You can score six goals one night, but none the next? Fuckin' ridiculous. Johnny's words burned Jeff's ears as he poured the remainder of his drink down his throat.
"Another?" The bartender filled his glass, discreetly, not to make a fuss about how drinking away the misery won't actually help. Jeff would argue with him and probably curse, get mad, break a glass from frustration. It wasn't worth the aggravation, so when another Flyer joined Jeff and ordered the same thing, the older man poured refills in two drinks until the late hours.
Mike Richards had disappeared earlier, Jeff remembered, maybe to go up to the room and go to bed. But there was a hand on his back, warm and inviting, and it felt like Richie, felt almost like home.
"You got two goals tonight," someone whispered in his ear, a giggle escaping through dry lips.
"Damn right I did." Jeff pushed the empty glass away from him and stood up, stumbled, caught the bar stool and grinned. He wrapped an arm around Simon Gagne's shoulders and pulled his teammate close. Jeff buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, too drunk to realize how public they were to be doing such a thing. Simon didn't seem to care, too drunk as well, and only continued to giggle some more as a tongue licked his earlobe.
"Come on," Jeff urged, and they were walking towards the elevators. The button wouldn't sit still, and when Jeff finally pushed it and the doors opened, they got on, watched the doors shut, and soon Simon was pressed against one of the four steel walls.
"I'm gonna fuck you." The breath was hot in Simon's ear and all he could do was moan in response. He opened his eyes when he heard the soft "ding" and the doors opening, watching Jeff stagger away. He followed, grabbing after the second line center, and started giggling again.
"Shut up," Jeff demaned, placing a hand over Simon's mouth. He felt a tongue lick between his fingers as the giggling was muffled. "Joff must hear us."
"Huh?" Simon raised an eyebrow but was then pulled into the hotel room, door slammed shut behind him.
Jeff had his shirt off already as he threw Simon to the bed, watching the man land on the sheets, drunk and willing. He climbed on top of the winger, attacked his lips, pressing harsh kisses and pulling at his shirt. He ran finger through his hair, tugging at the strands, extracting moans deep from Simon's throat. He thrusted against the throbbing erection in his teammate's pants, his aching just as much, both ready to be released from their denim confinements.
"Come on, get fuckin' naked already." Jeff was somewhat pissed. An angry drunk? Maybe. But what Simon didn't know was that Jeff thought he was about to fuck Richie, not Simon, and when Richie and Jeff are in bed and horny as hell and just want release, things tend to get rushed.
"I will if you - " The t-shirt was ripped and off in two seconds flat. Lips now on his chest, fingertips teasing his nipples. Simon arched his back into the touch and bucked his hips. Fingers were now working on his pants, his lifted his hips again so they could slid off, and now completely naked, Simon was hard and weeping and holding back a cry of anticipation.
"Fuck yeah." More clothes landed on the floor, Jeff joined Simon and was completely naked as well. "Turn over."
The sound of a cap being flipped open echoed in the room and soon two slicked fingers entered Simon. The winger moaned loudly, pressing his forehead against the mattress and shoving his ass back against the fingers. They fucked him, stretching, Jeff pulling out and pushing back in too quickly that Simon almost came. No, not yet, Gags, you're supposed to come while Jeff is fucking you.
The tip of Jeff's cock pushed at Simon's entrance, teasing, pushing more, soon filling him completely. Jeff grasped at the winger's hips, fingertips digging deep, likely to leave a mark. The thrusting began, hard and fast the entire time, no stopping till Simon was grabbing his own cock and moaning and both were coming at the same time. Jeff's body shoke, eyes shut tightly as he moaned out a name, a name Simon didn't hear because he was too busy coming down from the high of his own orgasm.
Sweaty bodies collapsed on the bed and Simon wiped his sticky hand on the sheets. He didn't look at Jeff, didn't watch him as Jeff climbed under the sheets and laid his head on the pillow. Simon was off the bed before Jeff could grab at him, before hands could pull him close to kiss or cuddle or do something that Simon didn't want to do. Dressed in jeans, he grabbed a shirt from Jeff's bag and pulled it on over his head. He slipped on his shoes, and opening the door he could hear the faint sound of the Jeff's snoring. Closing the door while out in the hallway made the sound disappear.
*****
Joff rubbed a towel in his wet hair and walked out of the bathroom. Tossing the towel in a corner of the room, he looked at the sleeping form on one of the beds. It was Richie, fully clothed, sleeping off a couple rounds of drinks.
"Hey," Joff nudged at the captain's shoulder and laid down next to him. He didn't want to wake him, but there was a certain part of his body that was demanding attention, and it also knew someone needed to receive their reward still.
Richie groaned and turned over, eyes opening slowly. He rubbed at them, rubbing the sleep away, and looked at Joff. A small smile formed, but when his eyes trailed up and down his body, the smile turned into a grin and soon hands were pulling at Joff.
"Come here, you," Richie moaned, and they were kissing, passionately, hands running down Joff's chest and to in between his thighs. The winger moaned, just as loudly as Richie did, and bucked his hips so hot flesh was now touching even hotter flesh as Richei grabbed his cock.
"Fuck!" Joff arched his back, exposing his neck, allowing Richie to nip and suck at the tender spots he knew well. He ran his fingers through Richie's hair and tugged gently, causing the captain to look up at him. "Please, fuck me, Richie."
"You sure?"
Joff nodded and pulled at the captain's shirt, bringing their bodies closer. "Yeah, for your reward, and because...I miss you." Their lips connected again and Richie was pulling at his jeans, tugging them down and pulling out his cock. He was hard already, ready to go. Still kissing, Richie placed himself between Joff's legs and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. It sat there, waiting, almost empty as it was used much the previous nights.
"Yeah, that's it..." Joff's voice was almost breathless, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he felt three fingers quickly prepare him. "Oh, do it now, Richie, fuck me now." A cock replaced the fingers, slowly entering, and after adjusting to his size, Joff was soon squirming underneatth Richie as the captain was rocking in and out of him. No one fucked Joff like Scottie did - hot, fast, hard, sometimes painful, but all to bring him to fullest extent of pleasure possible. With Richie, being fucked by his captain was all about taking it slow and making it last as long as he could. Joff could be fucked by Richie for hours, even though they never had the time to do it, or even the privacy with Scottie always lurking around. It was what they used to do, back then.
He could feel the pleasure rising, his own cock becoming harder with each thrust. Spreading his legs wider and arching his hips up, Richie dug deeper into him and hit a spot that normally wasn't hit. Joff cried out, moaning the captain's name, jerking his own cock till his seed was spread all over their chests. Richie gave a couple more thrust, kissing Joff as he filled him. Hands grabbed at his ass, keeping him there longer, longer then need be, but Richie didn't protest and just kept pushing his tongue further into the winger's mouth.
"Richie..." Joff was panting, smiling, watching the captain finally pull out and wipe away some drying seed with a bed sheet. Richie kicked off his jeans the rest of the way before lying next to Joff, taking his teammate in his arms and kissing his forehead.
"Thanks," he said, smiling down at him.
"No problem."
The upcoming hours were lurking, maybe like Scottie was doing, and they both feel asleep minutes later still as close as could be.
Somewhere else in another hotel room, Scott Hartnell was pressed against a wall as he was receiving his reward. A simple blow job, brought on quickly and coming down the handsome man's throat. A couple doors down, Randy Jones was fast asleep, completely naked, his reward received and over with before Hartnell's. Neither one knew it was the same Flyer who rewarded them each, and if they never talked about it, they would never know. Only, him.